


Stay

by Astieria_Wandering



Series: Only She knows [2]
Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Angst and Feels, Angst and Tragedy, BAMF Aziraphale (Good Omens), Grief/Mourning, Hurt Crowley (Good Omens), I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Inspired by Music, Post-Almost Apocalypse (Good Omens)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-21
Updated: 2020-11-21
Packaged: 2021-03-09 20:27:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,862
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27662023
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Astieria_Wandering/pseuds/Astieria_Wandering
Summary: In the midst of the battle for earth's survival Aziraphale realizes something has happened to Crowley. He franticly tries to save the love of his existence but Crowley is fading and as he loses the fight to stay Aziraphale world grows darker.“Heaven Knows” from Aziraphale’s perspective. I’m sorry in advance.Please read part one before this.Inspired by Can I get a Wahoo’s amazing animatic, be sure to check her out! Link bellow
Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens)
Series: Only She knows [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2002984
Kudos: 15





	Stay

**Author's Note:**

> For Can I get a Wahoo.  
> I saw this animatic on youtube done by the insanely talented 'Can I get a Wahoo' and just had to write it. This is between their two animatics and is an extension of my own devising to add to their pieces.  
> Please go over to youtube and support them!!  
> https://youtu.be/ULmQMrPcFSE

The battle was brutal, Aziraphale was covered in dirt, and sweat, his flaming blade heavy in his hands. He had just finished fighting off a platoon of angels, he was exhausted, and his body felt heavy... he hates fighting but to protect those he loves he would keep going. 

You would think that such a battle, one that would decide the fate of the earth and all who live on it would be fought on a muddy field on a rain-drenched day. That was not the case today, no, the day was bright, the grass was vibrant underfoot and there was color everywhere. 

Someone, he loves this planet, he loves everything about it, he loves the colors, the creatures living on it, and he especially loves the demon who calls it home with him. 

_Crowley._ He hasn’t seen his love for a long while, Aziraphale looks around, searching for that bold red hair. 

_There,_ just off the field under a tree, the demon seems to somehow be resting. “Crowley!” he ran to his husband, “come now! We can’t rest yet!!” 

Aziraphale reaches the tree as Crowley raises a hand to him. There’s something glinting off his love’s fingers. Aziraphale feels the colour drain from him as warm damp hands touch his cheek and leave a trail of red in their wake. 

Crowley is hurt. 

His demon is hurt and badly.

Crowley is dying.

Aziraphale knees give out and he hits the grass in front of him, there is too much red, colours begin to fade from the angel’s vision. 

_Stay_

Aziraphale sees flashes of recent and ancient years; meeting the demon for the first time and knowing what he felt but not do anything. Waiting, for the perfect time, waiting to know the demon felt the same, waiting to hear the words from his demon and then finally hearing them. 

He had waited his whole life for the right time to tell him how he felt, Aziraphale knew he should’ve tried to tell him that he needed him. Cause his whole life he had felt this way, this love and he didn’t say for so long and now there wasn’t much time. 

Aziraphale cradled those to-cold hands in his trying to bring some warmth back into them. Those beautiful lips parted and the guilt-ridden angel hoped they would supply a quick smirk or taunt... he was wrong. 

“Heaven- She knows how I love you.” Something cold began falling over them as the grass below them loses its vibrance and his love said goodbye in the pouring rain. 

Aziraphale could not allow this, he _couldn’t_ allow this _,_ calling down all the angelic grace he could muster, the breaking angel tried. 

_Stay._

Aziraphale heard steps behind him, he didn’t care he could see the light walking away from the eyes of the only being he ever loved. 

Then Crowley smiles and Aziraphale knows who the steps belong to, his corporation begins to tremble as he remembers all those smiles. The ones he saw so rarely for so long but became more frequent when this child entered their lives. The ones that seemed to flow freely after that hard day not so many years ago as they freed themselves from the past. The smiles that lit up his world more than anything, before them he had felt so empty, that light was something he needs. 

Blind panic shoots through Aziraphale as a pair of shades are passed to the one beside him. Those thin lips whisper another line that rips at the angel’s soul. 

“Smile darling, don’t be scared.” someone stumbles backwards and the sky turns grey 

_Stay._

Please. 

The lightless angel pulled more power to himself, pushing it through the hands he still holds but nothing happens. He tries, again and again, and again. Everything will be alright, those shades will be returned, the colour will return, he won’t let go. 

Everything will be alright. It will. 

_Stay._

_Stay_ my light. 

Aziraphale knows there is still a battle being fought behind him but he doesn’t care, he has nothing to hold onto but these hands in his. He pulls even more power and grace; he doesn’t care if it hurts him. That light walks further away. More colour fades. 

_Stay._

_Stay_ my love. 

_Stay_ with me. 

Words float through the air around them, snippets of the past, of _Crowley’s_ past. Aziraphale isn’t even thinking about bringing the energy down anymore. He’s just trying to save his love, to keep his friend, to bring some colour back into the world. The words whisper of a warm welcoming light. 

_Stay._

_Stay._ Change your mind. 

_Stay._ Say your mine. 

_Stay._ Don’t leave today. 

_Stay._

He doesn’t remember the rain stopping but the sun now beating down, turns cold. The world is still losing its colour, Aziraphale can only see red as he continues to draw everything in, continues to try, continues silently begging. 

_Stay._

_Stay._ I found the words too late. 

_Stay._

_Stay._ I need you. 

_Stay._

_Stay._ I’ll be so lost without you 

I love you. 

There is only red left in his world. He had loved red, it was the colour of passion, of mischief and heart, of the hair that so suited his love, he had loved red. Now there was red on his hands, red seeping into the ground, red covering his love and he begged the red to disappear. 

The light that was walking away, blazes and for one, heart shearing moment Aziraphale hopes. He hopes that the light will come back, he hopes for a smile, he hopes for the colour to return. 

Then the light disappears and the world is grey. 

_NO_

Aziraphale tries again, the power burning through him but he tries again and again. The colour is gone. 

_Stay._

_Stay._ Where did you go? 

_Stay._

_Stay._ I love you. 

_Stay._

_Stay._ Don’t walk away. 

_Stay._

_Stay._ I’m sorry I waited. 

_Stay._

_Stay._ Everything will be alright. 

_Stay._

_Stay._ I love you. 

The colour is gone. He hears young voices behind him arguing, hears one being pulled away. 

He doesn’t care, the colour is gone. 

Anger and rage course through him, the colour is gone. 

Why is the colour gone? 

“Tell me why do the good men go?” The colour was beautiful, it was bright, it was joyous, it was wily, it had made him happy, it had loved him. 

The colour was gone. 

A sound fills the air behind him and the colourless angel turns. There is one last cruel angel standing there, he doesn’t care what their name is. There is something on their face. 

_Red._

There is _red_ on their face. 

The light that had been steadily pouring into the crumbling angel. The grace that had done nothing before. The energy that had been building within this monochromatic being. 

Explodes. 

It becomes flames, it becomes power, it becomes fuel for an endless rage. 

The other angel was not prepared for him. They had not thought he would still fight. They had not realized the amount of grace he had been holding. 

They had believed him weak, soft, easily beaten but as the being, before them, _h_ _owled._ As the being, they had always looked down on, stood covered in the blood of their mate, blazing sword in hand, the picture of righteous fury and vengeance. They realized they were wrong. 

He was no longer an angel as his eyes remain dry, as the light burned through him, and the sword in his hand raged like an inferno. He doesn’t feel the heat, that should be hurting him, doesn’t see the fear in his friend's eyes, doesn’t care about anything other than the fact that:

His colour is gone and the one that took it is standing in front of him and he needs to change that. 

Later he will be told about how fast the battle was, how swift his revenge was but now in this world-ending moment. Everything seems to move slowly, like one of those slow-motion scenes in those action movie's his colour loved so much. 

The colour was gone. 

He can tell that there is dirt beneath him and that it is burning but the wretched angel in front of him isn’t. Not yet. 

He lunges, the other dodges... barely and he spins on them a sound of pure rage escaping his throat. His colour is gone. He swipes for their exposed side. 

He feels the attack land and a wicked gleam enters those lightless eyes but the other is still standing, still fighting back. 

That won’t do. They try to pin him to the flaming earth. They fail, and he pins them. The colour is gone. They scream as his sword presses against their form but they get free. 

They try to defeat him, they try to reason with him, they try to escape him, they fail each time. Until they can barely stand and a shove from him sends them crashing to the ground, the dirt cracking with the force of the impact. The world around them is on fire, he doesn’t care. His colour is gone. 

He thought that he would feel something when his blade finally pierced their heart, stopping it like they did his colour’s but he doesn’t. He doesn’t feel anything as he walks away from a flaming crater of his own creation. 

He doesn’t feel anything, as the people around the tree part to let him past, he doesn’t feel anything as he kneels in front of that tree. He has to be sure, that his colour was gone, has to try, has to be sure that. Has to try before he washes away. 

Healing hadn’t worked, silently begging hadn’t done anything, maybe spoken words would be different. 

“You were to walk me down that old brick road.” the words escape “so that we could die where I met you, buried together so beautiful.” _Is this how it feels to let you go?_

The people around him don’t dare interrupt him, they can only stand there as he dissolved. 

He tries different words “You would hold me like we were home, you would turn my tears to rain.” but the colour didn’t stir. 

Unable to dredge up more words he gives his colour back the words they gave him “Only She knows how I love you.” he begins to feel again as a sob finally breaks free from him. This one was followed by many more, and Aziraphale let himself completely collapsed against Crowley’s empty form. 

Then their family is holding them both, and some colour filters back into Aziraphale’s vision but it is muted. They are all holding the brightest colour in their arms and they will bury him. 

They will bury a piece of vibrant light, a piece of their family under a tree that now held tauntingly beautiful fruit, a similar hue as his love’s hair. 

He hopes the stars would shine tonight, he knows how dear they were by that piece of light, he knows how his brilliant colour adored them. Aziraphale knows how the love of his existence had crafted them so long ago. 

He knows how Crowley had loved them. 

**Author's Note:**

> Hi again!  
> Thank you so much for reading my fic!  
> You're kudos mean the world to me! Please comment on your thoughts, I'd love any constructive feedback.
> 
> Once again thank you! I'll see you all soon!  
> Come find me on Tumblr! @astieria-wandering I'm going to start posting updates on my works there.


End file.
